Left and Right
by B-Rated
Summary: It was a tiny promise, a small little sentence, but its affects were great.


I don't own.

A short little one-shot I managed to make in an hour. Hope you're not disappointed in the simplicity or the shortness and it hardly compares with my other work.

Summary: It was a tiny promise, a small little sentence, but its affects were great.

* * *

"_I'm gonna fuck you until you can't tell your left from your right, Inuzuka." _It was a single sentence, spat with an angry tone, holding a rough and raw voice, but oh how it made Kiba shiver. He played it over and over in his head.

Kankuro had been on his way to the Hokage's when Kiba had decided to strike up a conversation in passing. Was he really to blame for the way Kankuro had reacted to having his puppets called dolls? No, of course not. Not, for implying Kankuro played with them too much, not for saying the obvious. He wore makeup and plays with dolls, what other conclusion could Kiba draw?

Was it his fault that he had been right? No, he didn't _know_. Was it his fault that Kankuro retorted by saying the obvious against him? He was a boy of sixteen and showing no interest in girls. He was a boy whose best friend was a dog. Had it been his fault Kankuro had also been right?

Was Kiba truly to blame here? Kankuro was clearly overreacting. But still his promise hung in the air and Kiba partly wanted to see it fulfilled. No, Kiba _really _wanted to see it fulfilled.

So they had come to this. He on his hands and knees, among a soft bedspread, with Kankuro behind him driving into him with sharp, hard thrusts. Kiba's body retaliated snapping his hips back to meet Kankuro's. His head was back and spine bent. It was a wonderful feeling, having his head so clouded by want, and the constant, rhythmic, pushing and pulling, full then empty, it was making him scream.

"Hold… up your… left hand," Kankuro demanded.

Kiba obeyed by shifting his weight onto his right. Kankuro had been asking periodically for Kiba to show any sign that he still knew the differences between one side of his body and the other. 'Move your left knee, turn your head right,' things like that.

The tasks were getting harder to comply to. It took more time for Kiba to think out what way was which and it seemed Kankuro was noticing.

Hands. They were trailing down Kiba's stomach. Hard, sweaty, tan, stomach. The fingers glided so easily down. It made a name come to his lips. It made his body move faster.

Lips. They were on Kiba's shoulder. Open against it. Letting the tongue and teeth they guarded free to move against Kiba's skin. Bite at him, lick at him. It made his breath hitch.

Hips. Gallant, strong, fast, and hard, ramming into him, forcing Kankuro deeper. It made Kiba shake. It made his elbows turn to jelly. It made him fall against the bed and lean his forehead against a pillow.

Scream. It left Kiba's throat. So loud, so approving, so begging. His eyebrows were wrinkled. His eyes clenched shut. The pillow below him was drenched in sweat and drool moving from his open mouth.

"Jack off… with your… right hand," Kankuro ordered with breathlessness. His fingers were squeezing Kiba's hips. Holding them as though Kiba was going to try and leave any moment.

Kiba's right hand sank between his legs. Kankuro groaned and moved faster. Kiba moaned loudly trying to decide which way to roll his hips. Forward into the simple bliss of his own hand or backwards into the head spinning, complicated pleasures. Both were equally satisfying, both equally made his body tense and both made his mind a haze.

"Turn your… head left," Kankuro's hot, breath hit the back of Kiba's neck. It made sparks travel down his spine. It made him forget what Kankuro had even asked of him. Because he wasn't thinking about his words. He was thinking of how they ghosted over his skin. How they made the hair they touched stand on end. He turned his head in the opposite direction.

Kankuro moaned against his neck. His imprisoned teeth were free again. Kiba's back arched as he released a _scream_, his _hips_ pushing back slowly, his _lips _hanging open, and Kankuro's _hands _still tight on him.

The thrusts were slow but harsh, heads were thick, lights were flashing behind Kiba's eyes. Kankuro was buried deep inside him, his muscles all throughout his body were clenching to the point where he was shaking. A strangled, gagging, squeaky, gasp fell from him onto the wet pillow. His hand was no longer moving. He felt Kankuro come inside him and groaned. It was over.

His knees gave as well and they both collapsed onto the bed. Breathing rough, limps tangled, bodies still joined.

Kankuro shifted to remove himself from Kiba. He rolled to the side of him knowing his weight would crush the smaller, younger, body.

Kiba sighed, his eyes closing without the realization they had ever opened. He was laying on his arms, his hand still between his knees. His face laying to the right against a saturated pillow.

Kankuro laughed lightly, looking at the relaxed face. "Told ya," he lifted his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. "You forgot left from right."

Kiba didn't respond. He was right. He had went though with his words. His promise had been fulfilled, a small smile tugged at Kiba's lips, because he was glad.


End file.
